


By Her Side: That Voice

by Vickiemoseley



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Hurt Fox Mulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vickiemoseley/pseuds/Vickiemoseley
Summary: Bill Scully stumbles onto something he never wanted to





	By Her Side: That Voice

**Author's Note:**

> The By Her Side series was created when I just couldn't get out of my head the idea that Bill Scully Jr. had to have some redeeming qualities

Title: By Her Side: That Voice  
Summary: Bill Scully stumbles onto something he never wanted to  
see and now must learn to keep a secret . . . from his mother.  
Category: S H MSR warning, but nothing graphic on the screen  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: All characters mentioned were dreamed up by the big  
surfer dude and are now the property of 10-13 Productions. But  
they are sooo much fun to play with, so I did. But I put them back  
on the shelf where I found them. Besides, I think Pat Skipper  
would love my ideas No infringement of copyrights, old, new  
or future.  
Archive: Yes, please  
Comments: This is dedicated to Brandon Ray and his patient little  
'reminders'. He gave me the idea for this one and now he has to  
take at least a little of the blame.

By Her Side: That Voice  
by Vickie Moseley  
vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

In my travels around the world, I've discovered something. No  
matter how old you get, your mother will treat you like you are  
sixteen years old.

It's a great truth. I've noted it from San Diego to Singapore, from  
Baltimore to Budapest.

And it never had a truer expression than in my relationship to my  
mother.

What's even a little harder to understand is why I invariably  
_revert_ to the mind of a sixteen year old when my mother gets a  
certain tone to her voice. It never fails. I can only hope that my  
own beloved little Matty has the same problem with my wife, Tara.  
If that is the case, the little squirt doesn't stand a chance. And I can  
sleep peacefully at night. He can never lie, cheat, cause trouble or  
get arrested if he knows he'll have to face that voice.

But sometimes, that can be a problem in itself.

I was a little disappointed to find that the cruise I was to take was  
delayed for two weeks. Plugged toilets. Not something you want  
to deal with on the high seas. A disabled head is worse than a  
disabled captain. You can always let the XO steer the ship, but  
when you gotta go . . .

So, since my Captain was getting tired of having me pace a hole in  
his office, and the head of the plumbing crew was threatening  
mutiny if I called him one more time, I was sent packing to deliver a  
report before one of the subcommittees of the Joint Chiefs. Hey, at  
least it meant a trip to see Mom, if only for a couple of days.

I had no sooner walked in the door to her house when Mom had an  
errand for me to run. A kiss, a hug, and 'Bill, do you think you  
could do me a favor'. It was only a matter of time, but I'd hoped  
I'd at least get a cup of coffee.

"Bill, your sister's been out of town for a few days and I promised I  
would water her plants. I completely forgot about it until this  
morning. Since you're right in the area on your way to your  
meeting . . ."

My Mom has a unique sense of distance. Sure, Georgetown is  
located in the Piedmont area of the Eastern Coast of the United  
States, but it's _not_ 'right in the area' of the Pentagon. It's a full  
hour out of my way, counting on Washington 'sludge' traffic. And  
I know the area where her new apartment is located. There is _no_  
parking around there, none, nadda, zero, zip, zilch. Add more time,  
finding a parking space where my rental wouldn't be towed.

But Mom was using that voice, and so I just smiled through gritted  
teeth and grabbed my briefcase. If I hurried, I wouldn't be late for  
my meeting.

It wasn't a horrible ride. It was sunny and not even that cold,  
though I knew the winter would be coming. I rolled the window  
down, turned the radio up and let the BW Parkway glide beneath  
my tires. I was almost surprised at how quickly I arrived outside  
my little sis' apartment. I was shocked when I found a parking  
space within a block.

She's moved to a nicer neighborhood, and I'm happy about that.  
No more apartments on the first floor. I wonder how much of her  
new sense of self preservation is due to her partner. Mulder would  
consider such things, I'm certain of it. Of course, he probably  
wouldn't bother to consider the price range . . .

It's not that I'm slipping in my opinion of Fox Mulder. I've  
decided that if my sister is going to work in the FBI, I would rather  
have him by her side than about 90 percent of the guys I could  
name. He's laid down his life for her, I appreciate that in a prick.  
Even a prick like Mulder. Doesn't mean I can't see his faults,  
though.

Anyway, Dana's place a nice little brownstone, with a couple of  
willows in a courtyard. Tara would get all gushy and call it 'quaint'  
and start rambling on about antique door knockers and walnut stair  
railings. Tara, the farm girl who loves to watch 'This Old House'.  
I decided that if I got a chance, I should get some pictures to take  
home to her.

Mom had given me the key, so I didn't bother with the ancient  
buzzer system. Besides, Danie wasn't supposed to be home. I  
climbed the two flights of stairs, ignoring the old elevator, and  
found her door right around the corner. I let myself in.

And nearly dropped dead when a very naked Fox Mulder  
confronted me in the living room.

Looking back, it was one of those moments that you just want to  
remember. Or forget for the rest of your life. I was standing there,  
key in hand, not bothering to close the door.

Mulder was standing there in all his glory, wearing nothing by the  
Smith and Wesson pistol in his hand.

I think we both screamed.

Mulder made a dash for a couch cushion, and I have to admit that  
he did a good job of not dropping the gun on the way. I remember  
thinking that he was moving a lot better than he had the last time  
I'd seen him, two weeks ago.

I just stood there. My mouth was probably open, which would  
account for Dana's greeting.

"For God's sakes, Bill, close the door and your mouth!"

I did as I was told, more from shock than any desire to please my  
sister. Looking at her wasn't much better than looking at Mulder,  
sitting on the couch with one of those foo-foo couch pillows on his  
lap. Dana, my little sister Dana, was standing in the arch to the  
hallway, wearing a man's white button down shirt. It was buttoned  
in just a couple of places, mostly with the wrong holes, and left  
nothing to the imagination. She was even barefoot.

What she did next really threw me for a loop. She hurried over to  
the couch and sat down next to her partner and put her hand on his  
face. "Mulder, are you all right?"

Was _he_ all right? I was the one in cardiac arrest!

I was in rapt attention, watching them. Mulder had his eyes closed,  
was breathing a little heavy. Finally, he opened them, looked at her  
and nodded. "I'm fine, really, Scully. Just moved a little fast, that's  
all."

I'm sure it wasn't the first time that morning that he'd 'moved a  
little fast', but I was trying to push that picture out of my mind.

"Well, you shouldn't be running!" I would have giggled if the  
circumstances hadn't been so dire. The man was naked, sitting on  
her couch, and she was telling him he shouldn't be running? He  
probably shouldn't have been _walking_, if I was right in my  
suspicions. He was still on medical leave, and if I wasn't mistaken,  
he'd been an active participant in some pretty strenuous exercise.

"Uh, Scully, . . . maybe Bill wouldn't mind making some coffee and  
you could, uh, get me some clothes?"

Ordinarily, I would have told the prick where to stick the coffee,  
but I wanted out of that room as much as he wanted some privacy,  
so I trudged off to find where my sister hides the 'good' coffee.  
And a shot of Irish Whiskey which I knew was in the cabinet above  
the refrigerator. All Scully's keep the Wild Irish Rose there, it's  
tradition.

When I returned, with three steaming mugs, mine steaming more  
than theirs, order reigned. Mulder was sitting in the same spot on  
the couch, except now he was wearing a pair of gray sweatpants  
and a matching FBI Academy sweatshirt. My sister sat next to him,  
wearing a tight pair of jeans and a pink Angora sweater and had  
managed to stick a pair of sneakers on her feet. For some reason, I  
felt better when I saw that she had shoes on. I know it's stupid, but  
it's me.

"So, Bill, when did you get in?" Dana asked, trying for all the world  
not to sound like a woman just caught flagrante indelecto.

"This morning," I supplied. Confession time. Now that I'd had a  
couple of minutes to calm down, the whole situation was striking  
me as damned funny.

"And you just happened to stop by, unannounced, with my key?"  
Dana continued, sipping her coffee and giving me a look I haven't  
seen on her face in years. I'm certain if I said the wrong thing, I  
would have been torn limb from limb.

"I went to Mom's first. She said _you_ were out of town and she  
forgot to water your plants." Aha! The tables were now turned.

Dana coughed, but I think it was to hide her surprise. "I forgot to  
tell Mom when I got in last night."

I looked square at Mulder. "You probably had other things on your  
mind." Score one for the Swabbie.

Mulder's damned fun to watch when he's squirming, but I had  
found that out before. "Bill, I know you think you know what you  
walked in on . . ."

"You mean you weren't giving my sister a bare skin massage?" I  
asked innocently. Geez, the guy can blush like a choir boy!

"Bill," Dana said in a threatening voice. "What we do on our on  
time, in my home . . ."

I couldn't help it, I broke out laughing. They both looked at me  
like I was out of my mind and that just made it funnier. Finally, I  
had to say something. "Look, you guys, fair is fair. Danie, you're  
absolutely right, it is your house. I broke in, it was my fault. And  
to be honest, I really don't think it's my place to cast judgement  
here. For the record, there are worse things you two could be  
doing," I added with a wink to Mulder, who blushed even redder.

"You aren't mad?" Dana asked, her voice getting that real high  
range it does when she's confused.

"Not mad. As a matter of fact, I'd like to think I had a hand in  
this." They both looked shocked for a moment. "I mean, I did  
suggest it, after all. Of course, if you ever do anything to upset my  
sister, Mulder, I'll be honor bound to kick the shit out of you and  
feed you to the sharks," I said casually.

Mulder grinned. "Of course. I would expect nothing less, Bill."

"Good. Boy, talk about stopping my heart. You would have  
drilled me a couple times before I could have let out a yell, Mulder!  
So, what does Mom say about all this? The least she could have  
done was warn me."

The room was completely silent but there was a hell of a lot of  
talking going on. Two sets of eyes, my sister's blue, Mulder's  
brown, seemed to be arguing full tilt. Finally, Dana broke her eyes  
away and looked over to me. "Mom doesn't know, Bill. And I  
want to keep it that way."

"Scully, I don't like . . ."

Dana put up her hand and Mulder stopped like she'd pulled a plug  
out of a socket. "Mulder, we've talked about this. If we tell _my_  
Mom, I think we should tell _your_ Mom. And then we won't  
know who _they_ tell and it could get back to the Bureau and we  
both know what a mess that will cause. It's just too dangerous.  
Bill, you have to swear that you won't breath a word of this to  
anyone. Not Tara, not Charlie and especially, _not_ Mom."

I could understand not telling Charlie. I mean we used to have an  
expression: 'Tell a phone, tell a graph, tell a Charlie'. The kid  
couldn't keep his mouth shut to save his soul. How he ended up in  
Naval Intelligence is something I still have nightmares about. But  
Tara? I mean, I won the bet, after all. She said six months, I said  
two weeks. I don't win that many bets with Tara! I was all set to  
collect. That was going to be hard. But maybe if I just let it slip . . .  
I'd work on that one. The worst, by far was Mom.

I looked over at Mulder, who shrugged back. "She has a point,  
Bill. If the Bureau found out, well, they wouldn't do anything to  
me, but it would screw Dana's career chances. It's not like there's  
a written policy on it, but it's still an 'old boys club' over there and  
they really look down on the woman of the pair when there's a  
sexual relationship. I don't want that to happen. Your sister's too  
good at her job to have to put up with that kind of shit."

When put that way, I could see their point. I was just going to  
have to keep their secret.

"That doesn't mean I like sneaking around, mind you. I would tell  
your Mom in a minute, if Scully'd let me. But it's her call. I hope  
you understand."

I did, really I did. Hell, I'd been there myself. Tara and I started  
sleeping together before her senior year in college. We got  
engaged shortly after that, but we knew the wedding was a year off.  
That meant a year of keeping it quiet, not letting my family or her  
five brothers, in on the secret. God, I remember praying every  
second week of the month, even though I knew she was on the pill.

"How long are you planning on keeping this a secret?" I asked. I  
had to know. I needed a date when I could let the cat out of the  
bag.

Mulder shrugged and deferred to Dana again. She shrugged back.  
"We don't know. We're working on it. Believe me, Bill, I don't  
like this either. But Mulder's right. It would really mess up our  
professional relationship. We work so well together, we can't have  
them using this as an excuse to bench us or whatever. We'll just  
have to wait and see."

I glanced down at my watch. "Shit, I have to get to a meeting.  
Look, your secret is safe with me, but don't expect it to stay that  
way. Mom has her sources and I'm not the only one." I remember  
Mom confronting me one weekend when I got shore leave about  
two months before our wedding. One little motel room receipt,  
somehow forgotten in my shirt pocket, and the jig was up. Mom  
was the one they needed in Naval Intelligence.

"We know," Dana said, getting up to see me to the door. When  
she opened it, she pulled me aside. "You're really OK with this?"  
she asked. For a minute, we were back in time, my baby sister  
asking if she could borrow my bike to ride to the beach.

I smiled at her. "More than OK. I told you, Danie, he's a good  
man. Now, I better get going or I'll be facing a firing squad." I  
leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Better feed him, Dana. He's  
gonna need his strength." She socked me in the arm, but it felt  
good. I grinned all the way to the car.

The meeting went well. As I was leaving, I took the opportunity to  
find a phone and called the head of the plumbing crew back home,  
just to check on things. Need parts, another three days, at least.  
Before I was out of the building, my CO was calling to inform me  
that my stay was now a 'shore leave' and I was to 'take some time  
to visit with my family, away from any phones.' Well, that was  
clear enough.

I got back to Mom's all set to take her out to a nice quiet dinner.  
Mom, of course, had other plans.

"They were dead, weren't they?" I'm sure I looked pretty  
confused. "The plants at Dana's apartment, they were dead, right?"

The plants? Oh yeah, the damned plants. Geez, I hadn't even  
bothered to look at the damned plants. Dana was there, she could  
water them. If she could pry her hands off Mulder.

"Mom, Dana got back last night. The plants are in good hands," I  
told her. "Hey, I'm taking you out to dinner. Name your pleasure,  
Italian, Chinese, Thai . . ."

"Bill, how sweet. Hey, since Dana's back in town, let's see if she  
and Fox can join us? Fox has been cooped up in his apartment for  
two weeks and I know he'd appreciate a little time out. And  
Dana's been so worried about him. She deserves a break, too.  
Besides, Tara tells me you and Fox are getting along better now,  
and you were such a help when he was in the hospital."

How fast could I drive back to San Diego? And my wife's big  
mouth? The last thing I wanted to do was spend the evening with a  
couple of love birds. Especially when I knew they were love birds,  
but the other member of our party, our Mother, wasn't supposed to  
know.

"Oh, Mom, I'm sure Dana's tired after the trip. And Mulder  
probably has a special diet, still. He's not that good about  
following doctor's orders all the time."

"Oh nonsense. Unless there's some other reason you don't want  
them to go, William."

There is was. That tone of voice. That 'what are you really up to  
William Dennis Scully' tone of voice. I had to tread lightly here.  
Besides, with the two of them right there at the table, maybe they  
would act as a distraction for Mom. And Mom would never ask  
any questions about them with the two of them sitting there.

"No other reason, Mom. You're right, it would be a nice break for  
them. Why don't I call Dana and she can call Mulder and set it  
up?" It sounded like a rational plan. I mean, it would work. So  
why was my stomach churning?

 

******************************************************************

 

Antonio's Italian Restaurant, Bethesda. Nice place. Dana's idea.  
And it allowed us to 'meet in the middle' instead of us picking them  
up. I was lulled into a false sense of security from the outset.

Mom loves Italian food. And not just spaghetti, which I figure she  
saw way too much of while we were growing up. Grilled chicken  
alfredo. I decided the lasagna looked good. Dana went for the  
baked mostaccoli and Mulder opted for a Tuscan steak, even  
though I distinctly felt my sister kicking him under the table. He  
took the kick, but still ordered the steak. I was actually beginning  
to like the guy.

"So, Fox, how have you been occupying your time while you're on  
medical leave?" Mom asked after our salads had been served. I  
_knew_ what he'd been up to, so I tried hard not to choke, and  
ended up sputtering lettuce across my breadsticks.

"I've been watching a lot of videos," Mulder replied and Dana  
sputtered water across _her_ breadsticks. I just knew I was in for  
an entertaining evening.

"Well, I have a nice collection of John Wayne movies, if you're  
interested," Mom said, giving both Dana and I looks that would  
have chilled our hearts as children. Come to think of it, that look  
still chills my heart.

"That might be fun. Westerns or war movies?"

And so we entered into a lively discussion of how John Wayne did  
some great Westerns and some passable war movies, but his by far  
greatest role was the ex-boxer turned Irish country gentleman in  
'The Quiet Man'. Mom's always been a sucker for that movie. I  
remember having to sit through it every St. Paddy's Day, even if it  
meant staying up past our bedtimes.

Dinner came and we dug into our food. I noticed Mulder had a  
little difficulty with his steak, or more specifically, his knife. Then,  
I remembered, hey, this guy had major surgery on his _chest_ just a  
couple of weeks ago. I watched him for a few minutes and  
couldn't stop myself. I started to reach over to give him a hand  
when a sharp pain struck my shin. I looked over at Dana but she  
was busy putting romano cheese on a breadstick. I reached out  
once more and the pain struck again. I realized it was Mom.

Mom looked at me and slowly shook her head. I didn't know what  
she meant, I was just trying to help the guy. Then she looked at  
me, then to Mulder and finally to Dana. I was still pretty confused,  
but decided if I was getting out of the restaurant without major  
bone damage, I better just let it be.

In a minute, Dana looked over at Mulder. He was trying hard not  
to grimace as he pushed the knife across the piece of meat and it  
was making my chest muscles hurt just looking at him. She rolled  
her eyes and tapped his hand.

An amazing thing happened. I don't consider Mulder a pansy. I  
mean, sure, he's a prick, but I've seen him mad and he's not what I  
would call 'limp wristed'. But when Dana raised one eyebrow, he  
sighed and handed her the steak knife and fork. She smiled and  
quickly cut the steak into nice, almost perfectly equal little bite  
sized pieces. Then she handed the utensils back to Mulder and  
returned to putting romano on anything that didn't move on her  
plate.

He let her cut his meat. In public. I could count on one hand the  
number of times I'd let Tara do that. No, on second thought, I've  
_never_ let Tara do that. But then, I've never been shot in the  
chest, either.

My mouth was hanging open I think, because Mom took the  
opportunity to 'call' on me. "So, Bill, why is your ship still in  
port?"

"Uh, plumbing problems," I said, not going into details over dinner.

She screwed up her face. "The worst. You can always let the XO  
handle the helm . . ." That's my Mom. She should be an admiral  
by now.

"Plumbing problems on a ship?" Mulder broke in. Oh, shit, he was  
really going to ask. "What kind? A leak?"

Dana bit her lip, she'd already figured out what was wrong with the  
ship. Mom was trying hard to look nonchalant, since it was  
obvious Mulder had no clue as to the table discussion he was  
entering into. I swallowed and answered.

"Bathroom problems."

Mulder thought about that for a moment, then the light dawned.  
"Ohhh, uh, yeah. I can see where that would be a problem." He  
went back to spearing steak pieces and the only sound was that of  
mastication.

Again, I was congratulating myself on how well the evening was  
going. Here we were, the four of us, and so far, Mom hadn't  
caught on that Mulder and Dana were 'doing the nasty', and I  
hadn't made Dana mad, or had Mom yell at me for my table  
manners. I was beginning to feel like I was 38 years old after all.

The dinner plates were cleared and I'd actually convinced Mom to  
indulge in some black tie cheesecake, which Dana offered to  
sample, when the other shoe finally hit the deck.

"Fox, I know it's not my place, but I've been so worried about you,  
rattling around that apartment by yourself. I really wish you'd take  
me up on the offer to come stay in Baltimore for a few days. At  
least until you're fully back on your feet." The look in her eyes,  
that 'I'm a mother and I'm worried about you' look, was enough to  
make me mist over. Mulder looked like she'd just knifed him in the  
heart.

"Umm, Mrs. Scully, umm, it's a . . . well, it's an incredibly  
generous offer. But I'm getting along fine, really. And I still have  
all those frozen dinners you brought over when I got back," he said  
with a depreciating smile that I wish I had perfected as a teenager.

"That's not what I mean, Fox. I saw how much using that knife  
hurt you. What if you fell in the bathroom? With Dana all the way  
in Georgetown . . . and what if you couldn't get to a phone?" She  
was getting very adamant and it was really hard to watch. I mean,  
she was truly worried.

Now, a few months ago, I would have been ready to blow my top.  
I mean, she's our mother, not his. But in the last couple of weeks,  
I've realized that, like it or not, Fox Mulder is now a part of our  
family. Well, as much as Charlie's wife, and my Tara are part of  
the family. And if I want my wife treated with love and respect, I  
have to treat my little sister's . . . 'partner' with that same . . .  
whatever.

So, I was feeling rather good about the fact that my blood pressure  
was almost level and I had the good sense to try and ease my  
mother's worry. "Mom, don't worry. He's not alone. Dana's  
right there . . ."

THUMP

That one resulted in a definite bruise and I knew I wouldn't be  
running for a few days. My little sister wears shoes that should be  
listed as lethal weapons.

"What Bill means, is that I stop by over there every night after  
work, Mom. To check up on him. You know, Mulder never takes  
his medicine unless I'm standing over him. So it's not like he's  
there, all by himself, 24 hours a day," Dana interrupted my  
sentence. Good thing, too. I was in too much pain to continue.

"And it doesn't take that long to get from your place to mine,  
either," Mulder chimed in and for a moment, I was afraid he was  
going to need crutches. Fortunately for him, Dana let it ride.

Mom was watching the three of us like a hawk. Or better, like a  
chickenhawk, staring down on the chicken coop. She could smell  
it. There was something going on and she wasn't on the  
information pipeline. But, by God, she would be before the evening  
was over.

"Mulder. Hey, care to go to the men's room?" I asked quickly,  
before Mom could come up with a line of interrogation.

Dana's mouth dropped to the table. Mulder looked at me like he'd  
decided I really _was_ the crazy bastard of the family, and he  
wouldn't be caught dead in a room with me alone. Mom just raised  
an eyebrow in my direction.

"I mean, uh, I know you need some help walking sometimes, and  
uh, I . . ."

A really weird thing happened at that moment. I was staring at  
Mulder, praying that he would at least go along with me, and all of  
a sudden, it was like he understood what I was trying to say. It  
wasn't the same 'total communion' kind of silent conversations he  
has with my sister, but it was enough for the moment.

"You know, Bill, that's a very considerate offer. Yes, I think I  
would like to go to the men's room." And he started to rise, but  
put on quite a few winces and groans to make it appear that my  
offer was not out of line.

By this time, Dana was ready to go into orbit. She was trying to  
figure out a way to excuse herself and come with us, but of course,  
that would have been totally inappropriate. So she had to be  
content with squirming in her seat, sending invisible smoke signals  
to her partner from across the table.

We were in the little hall outside the men's room when Mulder let  
me have it.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Bill? Guys _don't_ go to the  
bathroom in twos! That's a 'woman's thing!"

"Shut up and listen. Mom's on the trail of something. Now, it's  
not exactly common knowledge, but if any of us have any  
investigative skills, it comes from Mom's side of the family. Dad  
couldn't find the way to the bathroom in the morning without a  
sextant and a computer chart. If you think Dana's good at sniffing  
out the dirt, you've never met Mom on a good day."

The light bulb went off in his beady little brain. "Oh, shit . . ."

"Oh, shit is right," I agreed wholeheartedly. "We might not be sunk  
yet, but we're listing pretty badly to starboard and our port engines  
are about gone."

"What can we do?" he demanded. I have to say this much about  
him, when he senses danger, he is a man of action.

"You're sick," I told him.

"No, I'm not," he argued.

"No, dumbass, we tell Mom you're sick," I explained in my best  
'I'm trying not to kill you but you are so damned stupid' voice I  
used to use with Charlie on a daily basis.

He went a little pale and shook his head. "I can't. I can't, Bill. I  
can't lie to your Mom. Not to her face."

I narrowed my eyes and glared at him. "I could punch you in the  
chest. Then you wouldn't be lying," I sneered.

"I'll fake it," he answered quickly enough that he must have  
thought I was serious.

"What about Scully, uh, Dana?" he said after a moment's  
consideration.

"OK, here's the plan. You stay here and get your coat. I'll go  
back in and tell Dana that you started feeling bad and you really  
need to get back home. She'll come back here and you two can  
head back to her apartment. And for God's sakes, don't do  
anything in the parking lot, OK? Wait till you get in the door," I  
said with a leer and a wink.

He gave me a look that told me he would shot first next time and I  
laughed and thumped him on the back. Bad move, because the  
pained expression told me that it had to hurt.

"Sorry," I muttered and went off to rescue my sister. I could hear  
Mom and Dana talking as I walked up and realized I got there not a  
moment too soon.

"No, Mom, you're being silly. We are _not_ hiding anything from  
you. Mulder is fine. Really. The doctor thinks he can go back to  
work in a couple of weeks. He's really being good this time,  
listening to the doctor and taking it easy." Dana looked up and  
when she spotted me it was like I was Wayne Newton at Vegas.  
"Bill, you're back," she announced with delight. Then she noticed I  
was alone. "Where's Mulder?"

"Dana, I'm really sorry, I hate to ruin your evening, but Mulder's  
not feeling well. I left him on one of the chairs out by the door. He  
said he just got really tired all of a sudden. Maybe you should get  
him back to his place."

Mother shot a look over to Dana like her worst suspicions had just  
be confirmed and got up from the table. "I _knew_ something was  
wrong," she declared and marched off the way I'd just come.

"What did you do to him?" Dana demanded, grabbing my sleeve as  
she headed off after Mom. I held my place and put my hand on her  
shoulder, holding her back.

"I didn't touch him. He's fine, really. I just knew Mom was going  
to spend the rest of the evening on a fishing expedition and I  
wanted you two to make your getaway before things got out of  
hand," I assured her.

"Well, if you hadn't opened your big mouth," Dana accused, "she  
wouldn't be suspicious! Besides, she's way off course. She thinks  
Mulder injury was more serious than we let her know. She's afraid  
he's pushing himself too hard to get back to work and he's going to  
have a relapse. She isn't anywhere near thinking that we're  
sleeping together," Dana hissed as she shook off my hand. "And  
now that he's acting sick, she thinks I really have been lying to  
her!"

I said the only thing I could think of. "Opps?"

"Damn it, Billy. I just wish you'd learn to keep your mouth shut,"  
she growled.

"Hey, you're the one with the deep, dark, secret, here, Short  
Stuff!" I hissed back. "If you'd just tell Mom that you and Mulder  
are screwin' around . . ."

She balled up her fist and for a moment, I swear, I was sure my  
sister was gonna let me have it right in the middle of the restaurant.  
But she's a lady. At least, that's what Mom has always told her.

"Just you wait, Bill Scully. It's gonna come someday, and when it  
does, it's not going to be pretty," she promised through perfectly  
straight clenched teeth. Great. My sister has a hit out on me and I  
was just trying to help.

I was one step behind her when we caught up to Mom and Mulder.  
Poor Mulder, I really did feel sorry for him. I knew it was the  
stress of 'playing sick' around Mom, but he was white as a sheet  
and I think his hands were trembling. For all the world, he did look  
like he was going to pass out right then and there. Mom was all  
over him like wax on a kitchen floor.

"Fox, I won't hear another word. We're taking you passed the  
emergency room and if they don't keep you, you're coming back to  
my house where I can make _sure_ you're getting the rest you  
need. You are not a teenager anymore, you know. Getting shot in  
the chest . . ." She stopped and one of the tears that had been  
clinging to her lashes took a nosedive and raced down her face. I  
felt about two inches tall when I realized that my little game was  
making my mother cry.

Apparently, it had the same affect on Mulder. "Mrs. Scully,  
Maggie," he said, grabbing her hand in both of his. "Please.  
There's nothing to be so upset about. I just . . . I just pushed it a  
little too hard tonight. I just wanted to have a nice evening with  
you and Dana and . . ." I'm pretty sure he choked on this one, "Bill.  
You're right, though. Maybe I do need someone to look after me."  
He stared hard at Dana.

The moment of truth. Oh my God, I thought the asshole was  
agnostic. Here he was, sitting on an overstuffed chair in the lobby  
of Antonio's and he was about to go to confession. He couldn't lie  
to my mother, either. My God, did the voice work on _everyone_?

Dana saw it too and was trying all the non-verbal voo doo looks  
she could muster to seal his mouth shut. All to no avail, he was  
looking only at my mother.

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather have looking out for me for a  
couple of days . . . then you," he said, giving her hand a light kiss.  
"I would really like to come to Baltimore. Maybe just till the  
weekend."

I'll be damned if the little shit didn't get us all out of hot water.  
Dana started breathing again. I figured I was safe, at least until I  
got back to San Diego and then I'd just make sure I didn't talk to  
Mom too long when we made our bi-monthly phone calls home.  
Everything was going to be all right.

"That's wonderful, Fox," Mom said, pulling him up and into a hug.  
He hugged her back and when it started to get embarrassing, he  
pulled back and handed his coat to Dana, who helped him put it on.  
The rest of us got our coats and headed out the door. I was  
thinking things couldn't have been better.

"Fox, it will be good for you," Mom was saying as I held open the  
door for her. "You'll get the rest you need, I'll put a little meat on  
those bones. You and Bill can share the boys room. You can sleep  
in Charlie's old bed."

Well, it would have been too much to hope for, _everything_  
turning out all right.

the end.

Vickie

vickiemoseley1978@yahoo.com

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

"We're gonna party like it's  
1999"

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


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